There Comes a Time
by inuyasha'sbabe07
Summary: Ten years has passed since the events in The Princess and the Goblin and Curdie has sworn off love after his sweet Irene's departure. When evil lurks back into the mountains and an enigmatic girl with no memory shows up, what can he do? Please review!
1. Curdie

**There Comes a Time**

**Princess and the Goblin Sequel**

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******Author's Notes: **It seems like these days, none of the cartoons that come out are ever much good for younger kids. There's always subtle innuendo and crude humour, no matter what the rating. When I was searching on Amazon for a cartoon for my three-year-old niece I chanced upon one cartoon that had always been one of my favourites when I was little. I was thrilled to see it on DVD, and I plan on adding it to my collections. Anyway, seeing it again brought up old memories about a more innocent time. I can remember sitting watching The Princess and the Goblin and wishing that Irene and Curdie had gotten together. That's me, the hopeless romantic. Well, when I found it again, those desires were rekindled and since I've already written a few fan fictions, I decided "Why the heck not?" I admit that I haven't read the books in their entirety, but who cares? So, here is how I believe the Princess should have continued.

******Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess and the Goblin nor do I own any of the affiliated characters. **

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******Chapter One: Curdie **

A cool gentle breeze blew through the trees high above the lonely valley. Here and there, oak and birch trees were bursting into vibrant flames of autumn colour. Mountain streams bubbled happily over the rocks for a few more weeks before the frost ebbed their flow. Birds twittered happily from their nests, soon to fly to warmer climates. Far below them, men continued their work. Deep down in the mines, a thick vein of silver had been unearthed. Miners scurried about, prying the precious metal from the rock and carrying it to the surface where it would then be purified and sent to the old king. Other than the brave men that worked those perilous mines, no one dared to live in this mountainous land, not after the events of ten years past.

In that time, when the land had been enjoying a time of peace, the king's young daughter had been housed in a half castle, half farmhouse while the king attended to his kingly duties elsewhere. A nanny and three scores of soldiers where posted there, to keep the princess safe, though no one believed that there would ever been any need for it. How wrong they had been. Deep down, in the bowels of the earth, further down than even the deepest mine shaft, the goblins had grown restless. Run down into these caverns hundreds of years before by men's laws, they harboured a deep-seated grudge against the 'sun people' still. They conspired to flood the caverns, forcing the miners out of their territory, but their prince, Froglip, was not satisfied with this alone. So they kidnapped the princess and took her deep below, set on marrying Prince Froglip to her, thus ensuring that he would be king of both the humans and the goblins alike.

It was only with the help of a brave young miner's son named Curdie that the Princess Irene was freed. Together, they foiled the hard laid plans of the goblins, flooding them with their own dam and forcing them to the surface during broad daylight. Now, as far as anyone could guess, the goblins were long gone, forsaking their underground lairs and choosing instead to travel to some other country. So the land was safe again, but the people were still wary of anything unknown to them, most everything that lay beneath the grassy surface of the earth.

After these events, the king refused to leave his precious daughter in the castle on the hill, but rather took her with him to his greatest fortress. He had offered Curdie a place in his caravan for his brave deeds, but Curdie had decided rather to stay with his parents. The king had respected his answer and then driven off, his daughter's horse before his own and disappeared into the distance, not to be seen in the land of the mountains again for many many years to come. For weeks after their departure, Curdie refused to whistle, let alone sing. What had he to sing for? The goblins and their hideous pets where gone, and so too was his beloved princess.

And so it was, on the first day of fall some ten years later, that Curdie sat alone on his lonely rocky perch, high above the valleys. He came here often to think, to remember, and even to forget. He was on the eve of his twenty-second birthday and still he had no wife. This was unusual for a miner; his own father had married at eighteen to a wife two years his junior. But not Curdie. He had sworn never to marry, never to fall in love, and so far, he had held tightly to that promise. As the cold autumn breezes ruffled his curly brown hair, he gazed sadly at the dejected state of the castle farmhouse. The walls were in ruin, vines choked every window and nook and cranny. The highest tower, where Princess Irene had taken him to meet her ghostly great great grandmother, was falling apart, the roof broken in and sagging.

"Did those times really happen?" Curdie asked the wind. "Did I really fall in love with Irene? Or was it all a terrible dream?"

Off to his right, a whimpered was carried up to his ears. On a rock some fifteen feet below him, Curdie's pet dog stared sadly at his owner. Stiff grey and white ears perked up high on his head, his deep blue eyes gazing mournfully up into the chocolate brown eyes of the young man above him.

"I know, Cloud, I know. It's time to go home." Curdie sighed. Slowly he rose from the rock and skipped nimbly down to his faithful dog's side. "Mother will have a good, warn meal prepared for us by now. And I'm sure father will be out of the mines for supper. Come on, Cloud, you old rascal! Let's race!" Curdie shouted over his shoulder as he rushed down the mountainside and into the forest.

Cloud was not actually a dog, but rather he was a lone wolf that Curdie has rescued some six years before. His mother and siblings had been killed by a terrible rockslide, leaving him, a pup of only a few days old, to fend for himself. Luckily, Curdie and his father had seen the slide and quickly went to investigate. Within a matter of minutes, Cloud's whimpers floated down to Curdie's sensitive ears and the young orphan had a new home. Since that time, the two had been inseparable. They explored the mineshafts together, hunted together, ate together, and even slept together. In Cloud's blue-grey eyes, Curdie was closer than kin.

The two of them raced through the deep pine forests and over the many winding streams that were fed by the mountaintop's year-round snowcaps. With their hearts pounding heavily against their ribs and their breathing coming in great gasps, man and wolf arrived at their childhood home and opened the heavy wooden door. As soon as their feet passed the threshold, delicious smells wafted up into their nostrils, causing their mouths to water with hunger. Curdie's mother stood over the stove stirring a bubbling pot of stew.

"Ah! Curdie, you're back!" His mother sighed happily as she turned to greet them. "I suppose you were up on your lookout again, looking for the king's caravan to return." She teased merrily.

"Come on mother, I only go there to think." Curdie grumbled as he sat down on one of the beds. "I only watched for them when I was young."

"Yes dear, I know." She replied. "But you really should move on. It's been ten years now! You must choose a bride soon; you're our only son." She urged him.

He threw himself back on the bed and sighed, "Yeah, I know. Give me a little more time though."

"Huh! Too much more time and I shall see Sonya married before you! I shall be an old haggard woman by the time you have children!" His mother huffed, her hands set on her hips crossly.

"You need not worry about that happening mother!" Curdie chuckled. "She is only nine years old! I still have a few more years to decide."

The miner's wife stood there gazing at her son for a moment, taking him in. He had grown so tall and handsome in the years that had passed; he surpassed his father's height by nearly three inches. His childish lanky form had given way to a slightly thicker muscular build, evidence of many hard years' labour in the mines. The softer edges around his jaw and cheeks had melted away, leaving his face like the chiseled face of statue. His thick and unruly brown hair had grown long, though his mother always made sure it was no longer than his shoulders, and spent most of its time pulled back into a low ponytail. The aging woman knew that many of the other miner's daughters admired this aloof man dearly and that he chose not to acknowledge them, so it pained her heart so deeply now to see him as lonely as he was.

Just then, the front door swung open again and a slender young girl ran in and wrapped her arms around the older woman's waist tightly. "Mama! Parsnip is missing! She is gone!" The girl cried. She buried her face deep into her mother's apron and sobbed.

"There, there Sonya! I'm sure she's just wondering around the forest and will be back soon! There's no need to worry." The mother soothed her daughter and gently rubbed her curly brown hair.

"No, Mama! She is gone! I've searched for her all day long, and I have laid out her favourite bowl full of cream and called her name over and over and still she does not come back!" Sonya wailed despairingly.

From his place on the bed, Curdie watched his young sister as she cried and met his mother's hopeful eyes. "Maybe your big brother will be willing to search for her with Cloud." She said. Sonya's tears subsided as she pulled back enough to see her mother's face. "I'm sure he would be happy to help you find your kitten, wouldn't you?"

"I suppose so." Curdie sighed. Sonya squealed happily and raced to smother her brother in a hug. "Alright, no need for that," he said as he caught her in his arms. "Get me her blanket and Cloud can sniff her out."

"Oh, thank you Curdie! Thank you!" She bubbled as she ran to get a blanket.

"Don't be out too long, dear; it's getting dark." Their mother called to them as they exited their small home. "The goblins may be gone, but there are still bears and wolves out there."

"Don't worry, Mother. We'll be back with that darned cat before sundown." Curdie assured her. But just to be safe, he snatched up his quiver and longbow.

On their way out, they bumped into their father, who was just returning from his work in the mines. The siblings merely waved a quick goodbye and then disappeared into the forest, Cloud leading them on fearlessly. The man smiled warmly and waved back before entering the home.

"Rose, what are those two going out to do this late in the evening?" He asked as he hung up his workbag and pulled off his muddy boots.

"Parsnip has gone missing and Curdie volunteered to go search for her." She replied. "I've fixed you a bath in the other room, so that you can clean up before supper."

"Ah, my darling woman!" He sighed happily. He wrapped his thick arms around her thin shoulders and pulled her close. "You think of everything."

"Oh, enough of that, Thomas! I won't have you pawing on me with all that mine dust on you!" She said playfully as she pushed him away from her and towards the bath. "Go wash up!"

The tall man chuckled happily and made his way towards the steaming hot bath that his devoted wife had poured for him.

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"Sonya, I told you we would find her." Curdie smiled down at his younger sister. 

"Thank you Curdie!" She said, her arms wrapped tight around her precious brown cat. "You're the best brother anyone could ever ask for."

"Yeah, whatever." He sighed. "Come on. It's time we head home; the sun's already setting." Curdie gently pushed Sonya forward. "You go on ahead of me. I'll catch up in a few seconds."

The young sprightly girl nodded and bounded off towards their home, Parsnip held tightly in her arms. When she had disappeared through the thick trees, Curdie turned to address Cloud. The wolf had sniffed out Parsnip in record timing, finding her caught in a hunter's trap not even a mile from home. Hunters often laid traps around the forest, mostly for smaller game such as rabbits or badgers, and it was hardly unusual for an innocent house pet to get caught in one. But something about this trap had sent alarm bells ringing in Curdie's head. Cloud seemed to agree.

"Doesn't look right to you, does it?" Curdie knelt down next to Cloud and fondly ruffled his ears. The wolf whimpered as pawed at the odd trap. "I know. I feel the same way. I've never seen a trap like this one."

Gingerly he picked up the said item and turned it over in his long hands. The thing was crudely made; roughly cut thorn branches woven together with stripped bark. The bait, which Parsnip had found unsatisfactory, was some odd dead creature that Curdie could not seem to place in his repertoire. Who ever had made this trap was not a local here in the mountains, and certainly far crueler than any of the hunters that Curdie knew. With a sigh, he set down the trap and put his hand heavily on Cloud's wooly neck.

"Come on boy. Let's go home. I don't want to be out here at night." The wolf yipped happily and licked his owner's face several times before finally being pushed away. "Alright, that's enough!" Curdie laughed as he wiped off the slobber and rose to his feet. "We'll tell Father about this trap and come back tomorrow when it's light out. But for now, we had better go catch up to Sonya. I don't want her to end up missing like Parsnip was."

With that Cloud and Curdie set off. Within a matter of moments they rejoined with Sonya and her cat and continued on their way home. Just when the sun had laid to rest in the cradle of the mountains, the two miner's offspring arrived home. Smoke rose steadily from the chimney, as did the smell of venison stew, giving them strength to walk the last few feet in the crisp cold night. Inside they found their mother and father waiting patiently at the table, four bowls set in respectful places, a hot pot of stew steaming in the middle of the table. Immediately upon their entrance, Rose rushed towards them with her arms opened wide.

"Didn't I tell you she would be okay?" She said. She pulled her youngest child into a tight hug and looked up at her son. "Where was she at? Where did you find her?"

"She was caught in a hunter's trap about a mile away. Cloud sniffed her out with no troubles." Curdie said as he shrugged off his cloak and hung it on a peg near the door. "Father, I think it'd be a good idea if you come and take a look at this trap. It didn't look like anyone's that we know. Too crudely made." He sat down at the table and began to serve himself some stew as he spoke.

"Alright. But not tomorrow, there's a storm brewing." Thomas informed them as each member of the family sat down to eat.

"You won't be going down into the mines to work, will you?" Rose asked. After she had dished out food for her daughter and husband, she poured some into two bowls and set them down on the floor for the family pets.

"No, I suppose not. Too much risk of the mines flooding. In any case, there won't be a whole lot done tomorrow. Now enough of this dreary talk and let us partake of this wonderful meal you have set before us!"

And so the family sat down and ate gladly the meal their hardworking mother had prepared for them. Outside the darkness had settled its thick blanket over the land, sheltering creatures big and small alike in a shroud of secrecy. It was in this same darkness that an incredible evil crept back into the subterranean world of the mountains. A storm was truly brewing, and not just one of nature's making.

******End of Chapter **

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****** Final Notes: **Well! I wrote all that in one day! Gosh, didn't think I'd manage that. Oh well. I hope it's enjoyed. Please feel free to comment and critique where you see it necessary, but please no flames. This is my own work (aside from the story that began it all), therefore I can call upon my own creative license whenever I chose to do so. Okay, enough of my blathering. Please REVIEW!!!


	2. Irene's Desicion

**There Comes a Time**

**Princess and the Goblin Sequel**

**Author's Notes: **YAY! My dad just bought me both of the books on audio the other night! Finished both in only two days! Now I can write a little better. Whelp, I should have guessed that this wouldn't be that popular. Oh well, it's just me releasing some of those pent up creative juices. I am thankful that one person did review! Thanks to you! There'll be a little note for ya at the end of the chapter. Moving onwards… This will only be a secondary story, one that I'll write on only when I can think of nothing else to write about in my other three stories. InuYasha fan fictions are my number one priority. Sooo, let's get the party started here! Onward to the unknown!

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess and the Goblin nor do I own any of the affiliated characters. **

**xXx**

**Chapter 2: Irene's Decision **

**xXx**

Sun shone through the narrow windows, making angel rays with the disturbed dust. Stained glass windows lent their ethereal light to the room, casting colourful pictures and shadows over the floor and walls. At one end of the long room, a figure sat on a window seat gazing out at the wide expanses of land below that tower. Strawberry blonde hair caught the light rays and created a halo around the figure's head, the white gown giving her an angelic appearance. On her lap lay a skinny pure honey coloured cat, tapping its fluffy tail on the velvet seat cushions. The woman's shoulders rose and fell as she breathed a deep sigh. Many miles in the distance, mountains rose unchallenged into the air. She lifted a delicate hand and stroked the glass with her long fingers, tracing the outline of those proud mountains.

"Ach, there ya are, Princess!" An old voice breathed from the door. A heavy set woman came panting into the room, her greying hair sticking out at odds and ends from under her wimple. "We've been looking all over for ye! The king wishes to see ye in the audience room right away."

The girl sighed again. "I suppose it's another one of those suitors King-papa wishes me to see." Slowly, with grace and poise, the young girl rose from her seat. She was careful to take her yellow cat tight in her arms, holding her like a baby and rubbing her white belly, to which the thing purred contentedly. "Lootie, I have no desire to see anymore of these priggish men." She huffed as she sat down in front of the dressing table.

"It doesn't matter what ye want, Princess Irene, as harsh as it may sound. His Majesty needs to sign this pact with one of our neighbours to keep the peace."

"Yes, dear Lootie, I am aware of that." Irene sighed.

The old nurse maid, who had been in attendance to the princess since her birth eighteen years prior, sighed as well but went about her work getting the young girl ready for the audience. She went to the table, Lootie opened a low box and gingerly lifted a silver and gold twined circlet and set it lightly on the princess' head. At the centre of that circlet was set a stone so bright blue that it perfectly mirrored the two right below it, set in Irene's eye. Her beautiful hair she pulled back partly into a half ponytail and Lootie plaited her two forelocks quickly, wrapping them halfway with white silk _**(IB: I imagine her looking just like Zelda from Twilight Princess, except for the armour and other junk**_.__. Once the ornate purple frock had been properly situated over her white gown, Irene was shooed out of the room towards her waiting father.

The quiet tapping of her delicate slippers filled the hallways and stairs as she made her way towards the great hall. She had walked this way thousands of times before and so it was no wonder that her mind was elsewhere as she walked onward. In her mind, she was miles and years away in a tiny farmhouse, a young girl once again with a promise of a kiss to a brave young lad. Fading memories of those times filled her thoughts so that is was not until a voice called to her that she realized where she was.

"Good afternoon, Highness." A gruff soldier called out respectfully. Beside him, his younger partner straightened and tapped the butt of his spear on the floor. "The King wishes to speak with you." The young man said.

"Thank you, Sir Gendel." She said quietly.

The two men bowed and heaved open the great wooden doors to the audience hall. The room was filled with the sounds of the hinges creaking and the whoosh of air as they fell open. With her hands folded neatly in front of her, Princess Irene walked into the hall, her eyes fixed upon the dais at the end of the room. She could see her papa standing there discussing something with someone that stood at the foot of the stairs. Brightly woven tapestries, guttering torches and braziers, and tall, stoic soldiers passed by her unnoticed as she walked across the worn red carpet towards the throne. When she had reached it, she stepped up onto the platform without a glance to the side where the man stood, focusing all her attentions on the jovial face of her father.

"Ah! My dear daughter!" The King smiled genuinely and took both of Irene's hands in his and kissed them fondly.

"King-papa," The young girl curtsied and pressed the signet ring on her father's right had to her pink lips in greeting. "You summoned me here?" She asked.

"Yes, dear child," He said, "We have a guest of great importance here." He smiled as he motioned down to the man at the foot of the dais. Irene had been praying she would not be forced to look at him, but she could not ignore him now, so she turned slowly and curtsied to him politely.

"Welcome to our humble castle, good sir." She welcomed.

"Thank you." His voice was gentle, smooth as silk, almost too much so.

When Irene righted from her curtsy, she took the chance to fully take him in, from head to armoured toe. He was handsome, she had to admit that much, but something in the set of his jaw, in the fall of his black hair, in the very manner he held his tall body that set alarm bells ringing loudly in her mind. His thick lips curved across his tanned face in a smile but his green eyes were as cold and treacherous as ice. His black armour, which glimmered dully in the faint lighting of the hall, was beautifully made with intricate pictures curving over every surface, and the helmet that he now held at his side was topped with fine black horsehair.

"This is Prince Caladin," The King said at her side. "He has come for an offer peace from the lands on our eastern borders, and your hand in marriage. We have discussed the matter thoroughly and come to the conclusion that this is a good idea. You will be wed before the fall is over."

Irene's heart fell into the pit of her stomach, her mouth dried out as though filled with cotton. The sick feeling of dread washed over her powerfully so that it was all she could do to stand. Solemnly she bowed to the prince in thanks. When she had fully righted herself, her voice had returned to her. "Thank you, good sir, for your good offer." She said calmly, though her mind screamed out in horror.

"Our kingdom is all the better for the addition of so beautiful a woman and so great an ally so it is I that must thank you and your father for your cooperation." He purred silkily. He dipped into an elaborate bow.

Irene felt her stomach clench up, threatening to empty itself right there on the steps. Tears began to brim around her eyes. Turning to her father she said with as much calm as she could muster, "Please excuse me, King-papa. I am afraid I do not feel well."

The King gazed down at her sadly and nodded, gently kissed her brow and sent her on her way. Before she could leave though, Prince Caladin caught up her hand in his own and kissed it. "I do pray that you will be well tonight for our celebration feast."

Irene felt herself beginning to retch, but for politeness she answered, "I would not miss it for the world." Though she said without much feeling, it seemed to sate the handsome prince.

Once the doors of the great hall had banged closed behind her and no one followed her steps closely her tiny slippered feet picked up the pace until they fairly raced up the stairs to the nursery, where she still slept. But when she reached the door, panting slightly from her exertion, she stopped and stared at the cold wood. Behind it she could clearly hear Lootie humming an old lullaby that had been used to lull Irene asleep. She imagined those days when Lootie would sit at the foot of her bed knitting and humming, just waiting for Irene to slip into slumber. These thoughts brought back the thoughts of Curdie and the adventures she had had with him below the world and above in the world of men. Tears started to brim around her crystal blue eyes again and she continued on down the hall to the stairway up to the highest tower.

"Oh, Great Grandmother," Irene sobbed. "How I wish you were here to comfort me as you did when I was only a child in the mountains! I don't know what to do anymore. King-papa means well, he only wants to secure the lands in peace for his people and find me a husband to care for me when he is gone, but I know this man will not honour that!"

Irene scaled the stairs and pushed aside the creaky old door to the tower room. Often she had come here when they had freshly arrived ten years ago longing to find her great grandmother. Never had she found her, but this was her sanctuary. It was a place to get away from her sword fighting lessons, horseback riding lessons, dance lessons, and all the other lessons required of a princess. Now she threw herself down on a dusty window seat and sobbed in despair. She still loved Curdie. There was no denying it, not in the least. She sat there with her arms resting on the window ledge, her face hidden an elbow, for hours untold. Finally, a loud whinny from down below in the stables startled her. She knew what she had to do.

**xXx**

When Lootie saw Princess Irene enter the nursery near sunset with her hair all mussed and her dress covered in dust, the old nursemaid near threw a fit. Lootie pulled the young princess into the room roughly and clucked at her like a mother hen and then set about getting her dressed for the great feast that the king had planned for her and her future husband. She scrubbed Irene's skin and scalp with scented soaps and messaged sweet oils into every inch of her. Her hair she did up as it always was, her generous waves rippling down her back like water, the silver and gold crown set upon her noble brow. She was dressed in a regal lavender gown with billowing sleeves and an empire waist. Around the hem of the dress and along the cuffs white silk thread had been embroidered into intricate bubbling rivulets. She feet were shod in delicate slippers of silver.

When Lootie deemed that she was dressed and presented well enough, the two made their way down the spiraling stairs and through the many hallways to the great hall where the feast was being held. They had been up in their room for several hours so there was no doubt that the feast had been set up and ready for them. Indeed, when the guards had pulled open the massive doors the sweet and savoury smells of fruit, cooked meats, and pastries flooded their senses and made their mouths and eyes water. Or, it made Lootie's mouth and eyes water; Irene felt quite the opposite, the smell and sight of the food made her already upset stomach jump and curl in on itself threatening to squeeze all its contents out onto the floor via her mouth. With all the decorum she could muster, Irene forced her body to calm and her face to remain emotionally blank.

Across the hall Prince Caladin's wandering gaze found her's. He was seated at the left of the king, who sat at the center of a semi-circle styled table. Stretching on either side of him sat at least one hundred nobles, numbering more than two hundred in all. When the king saw his daughter and her nurse enter he rose and spread his arms out wide and the hall that had been bubbling with laughter and conversation fell deathly silent.

"My dear friends," The old king began, "You all know well my daughter. Many of you have been with us since before her birth eighteen years ago. I am glad now that we have reached an agreement that will benefit our lands and my daughter greatly. Prince Caladin and Princess Irene will be wed on the morrow!" At this last statement the entire room burst into cheers. Goblets of ale and wine were raised in toast and the feast continued.

During the speak, Irene and Lootie had been making their way through the maze to their seats and by the time they had reached the king's side, the cheer had been raised. The jovial old man took his daughter's hands into his own and looked down into her glassy blue orbs with his own green eyes. A smile spread across his aging face and he stooped down to kiss her brow gladly. "You have made me proud, daughter." He whispered as he straightened. Irene only smiled without feeling the joy. Their tender moment was quickly stolen though, for Prince Caladin could take it no longer.

"My precious wife-to-be!" He called. The king willingly gave up his hold on his daughter's hands and let Caladin take her. "I must tell you that I eagerly await the morrow when we have wed."

Irene felt cold chills run down to the tips of her toes and back up again. She wanting with all that was in her to rip her hands out of his and run screaming back to her room, but she could not. So, she smiled faintly and tipped her head but said nothing. When chance spared her by means of a nobleman with a question for Caladin she ducked back through the mingling crowd to her seat next to her father and for the rest of the long night would not be moved, not even to dance and sing which she loved so dearly. Around her the people laughed happily with such merriment that they had not known in an age. All around her people smiled and joked and danced as though there were nothing that could ever happen that stop them, neither famine nor disease that could touch them. How she wanted to shout and scream and tell them that Prince Caladin was twisted and conniving. But her good manners got the better of her and she kept silent, so much so that people began to talk. Now, they said nothing unkind, merely wondered if she was well or saddened by some thing.

"To tell you the truth, good sir, I have barely heard ten words from her since my arrival two days ago." Caladin chuckled to a baron at his left. "I am beginning to think she does not talk!" The two burst into intoxicated laughter.

"Is she well?"

"She's probably just taken ill."

"Poor thing! I hope she is well enough tomorrow for the wedding."

People spoke around her as though she were not that, as though she had not ears to hear their remarks. They spoke and whispered even more when she rose and bid her father and fiancé good night. As they walked and climbed back to her chambers, Lootie babbled on and on about the prince and what a handsome couple they made, about how lovely their children would be, but Irene was not listening. No, she was hatching a plan.

**xXx**

That night, once Lootie had fallen asleep in her bedroom just off of Irene's, the young girl threw back her covers and set to work. Going to her closet she pulled out her riding outfit. The outfit consisted of tight white leggings and long sleeved shirt and a loose green tunic over it, which was cinched tightly with a dark leather belt. After rumbling around at the bottom of her closet for a few minutes she procured her riding boots and pulled the soft leather things on. _**IB:**__ I dunno but I had this thing with Zelda at the moment; when I envisioned this scene, I couldn't see her wearing anything but Link's outfit! Sorry for my lack of imagination!!) _She pulled her hair back and plaited it tightly then wrapped it into a bun so as not to hinder her in any way. When she had done that, she tiptoed to the chest at the foot of her bed and silently began to empty its contents out onto the floor. The chest was empty, her slender fingers an along the bottom in the darkness, searching for some knot to open it. Finally her index finger found the hole and she pulled upwards, revealing a secret compartment. There, covered in the dust of neglect, was a fat pouch full of coins. Gingerly she lifted it and set it down into her traveling bag, careful not to let the coins jingle too loudly. She looked around the room a few more times, grabbing up various items like blankets and clothes, but only as much as would fit in her one bag.

When she deemed that she had rounded up enough to keep her, she grabbed a dark black shawl and wrapped it around the lower half of her face, so that if she were seen it would be hard to tell whom she was. Once she has situated it tightly, she snatched up a long black cloak, hooded with a deep cowl, pinned it to her right shoulder with an unimpressive copper pin, and left the room as silent as a breath of air. Down the stairs and through the halls she sneaked, easily avoiding the guards, until she reached the kitchen. Going to the cupboards, she snatched up a few loaves of bread and a round of cheese and shoved them into a bag. After she had enough food, she exited using the kitchen's back door and ran the two hundred yards to the stables. Gently, and as quietly as possible, she slid aside the barn door and snuck in. Irene counted down in her mind as she passed each stall. When she had reached the fifteenth pen, she ducked inside and set her things down.

"Gaia!" she whispered to the large horse housed there. The mare nickered quietly and nuzzled the young woman's shoulder lovingly. "Gaia, we're leaving. You're the only one that I can trust, do you think you can take me to the mountains?" As if in reply the horse nodded her head. "Good girl. I'll get your tack and then my weapons and we'll be off!"

This particular horse was a breed for knights, built to carry several hundred pounds in human flesh and armour. Her hooves where as big as a man's spread hand and she towered over the normal quarter horse easily. Gaia had been a gift to Irene on her tenth birthday, when the mare was only a few months old. Since that time, the two had grown up together, learning how to interpret the other flawlessly. Without reigns, the princess could guide Gaia anywhere she chose at any speed she desired. Even though Irene's head barely reached the draft horse's shoulder, she had no fear for the gentle giant. Now, she had to rely on Gaia to get her as far away from the palace as she could.

With practiced ease, the princess buckled each buckle and tightened every strap of the mare's fine leather tack. When she finally pulled the creamy white mane from under the bridle, Gaia was itching to leave. Irene strapped on the last of her packs and weapons and patted Gaia's strong, jet-black shoulder. Outside, she heard the guards chattering away at the gates, striving to stay awake in the wee hours of the morning while the rest of the castle slept. _How am I to get past them without being found out?_ Irene thought to herself. Suddenly a thought came to her. She pulled on a pair of black gloves and reached up for the bridle.

**xXx**

The guards saw the figure appearing out of the night and felt a chill run each of their spines. The figure, whoever it was, was swathed in a black cloak from head to foot and led a large charger their way. The black horse tossed its large head revealing its stark white mane and tail. Finally the two stepped into the light of the torches and stopped. The light of four bright torches could not penetrate the deep cowl, leaving the face of the figure up to the imagination of four frightened guards.

"Halt! In the name of the king, who goes there?" It was a pointless command; the figure had already stopped within the light but remained completely silent. "I says, who goes there?" The guard called again.

In a raspy, dark voice the figure replied, "The messenger of the Prince Caladin."

"What business have ye got out here at this time o' night, and the night before the big weddin' asides!" One of the bigger guards quipped, picking some remnant of his lost courage.

"My master has bade me return to our lands and tell the king there of the news so that they too might rejoice as you." The figure rasped again and took a few steps forward. The guards fell away from him in fear.

"Wait!" One of them called as he reached the gate. "What are ye doin' with the Princess' horse?" A collective whispering arose from the pack of four guards and the ringing of metal echoed off the walls as they put their weapons at the ready. They were four against one.

"The kind princess has lent me the use of her prized horse so that I may reach my destination in all haste. Would you dare draw swords on the messenger of the east and risk all your king has worked for?" Slowly his free hand reached back towards the sword that hung from the saddle in an answer to the challenge.

"Our apologies, sir. We meant no harm." The biggest bowed low and slid his sword back into its sheath.

"Open the gate." The dark figure rasped again, the voice beneath the hood sounding hostile for the assumptions made.

There was a great flurry of activity as the four guards strained to lift the bars of the gate and pull the heavy thing aside enough for this mysterious figure to pass. The sooner they were rid of him, the better. When the gate had been opened enough, the dark man continued forward and stopped only briefly to look back when one of the guards called out.

"God speed to ye!"

The four of them could only barely make out the motion of the hooded figure dipping its head in acknowledgement. With the ease of a true warrior, the man set the large charger into a run and mounted. Within a matter of heartbeats, the two had disappeared behind a hill and all that was left of them was the dieing sound of hoof beats on the road and a chill in their hearts that clung for dear life.

**xXx**

**Thanks to Reviewers: **Well, I have to say… THANK YOU!!! You were the only person to review. I hope I did a good job making Irene pretty. Please don't stop the reviews and please do tell me if there's anything I need to fix!

**Final Notes: **Well, that's it for now. I've been labouring over this darned chapter for soooooo long! After I listened to the two books on audio I wanted to write more but for some reason every time I sat down at the computer only a few sentences got out and not as colourfully as I dream them. All that aside, I'm trying my best with myself pulled in all different directions. Please do continue to read and please please review! You have no idea how much I enjoy reading them!


	3. Storm's Peak

**There Comes a Time**

**Princess and the Goblin Sequel**

**Author's Notes: **_**(Sigh)**_ Well, considering the fact that I can't seem to come up with anything for my next InuYasha story, I figure it's a good idea to write a little on this one. I actually have a lot of ideas for this story as a whole. Don't laugh but I often lull myself to sleep by running through future scenes of this. Weird, eh? Well, anywho, here we go with the third installment of **There Comes a Time**. Enjoy and _**don't forget to review!!!!**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess and the Goblin nor do I own any of the affiliated characters. **

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** Chapter 3: Storm's Peak **

**xXx**

Bright red and orange tendrils reached up into the skies with a fervour matched only by the snow of midwinter blizzards. The roads under the morning sun slowly busied with the passing of merchants and shepherds on their daily duties and requirements. It was only now that the dark figure and horse stopped their fevered running. Now Irene sat at the base of a giant pine tree and stared out at the road below her. The dark, deep cowl was thrown back, the black clothe on her face cast aside to allow the morning breeze to cool her. By her side, Gaia stood tethered and nibbling contentedly on the final patch of summer's green grass.

Princess Irene had decided that she and Gaia would be safer to travel by night when none could see them for who they were, and then sleep by day, hidden deep in the forests or heather fields seldom trod by sane men. She knew that to pass through a town by day would be madness, that her father would be sick with grief and would send messengers and soldiers to every corner of the kingdom to bring her back. To avoid this she would keep as far away from people as she could until she had reached her destination. By traveling at night, she could avoid nosey merchants and guards, and she would be awake and alert during the most dangerous time, ready to defend herself. By day and sunlight, dangers were lessened and the presence of people on the roads would drive off the monsters of the darkness so that she could sleep in peace.

Still, she only had a slight notion as to where she was going. All she could recall from her journey to their fortress of stone from the little castle farmhouse was the passing of seven days and flattening of the land. At some point in her travels she would need to stop in a village to gather supplies and ask for help in her directions, but she would only do this at the last possible moment, when she was far away from her father's hands. As her thoughts tumbled end over end in her mind, her body slackened and slipped into a grateful sleep.

Dreams of a simple life on a mountainside came to her. Mists wrapped around her ankles as she stood at the doorway of a quaint cabin waving to a figure lost in the fog. Behind her came the sounds of children's laughter and a baby's mewling cry. As she turned a young child wrapped tiny white arms around her legs and gazed up at her face with a fully trusting smile. Even as she stooped to lift the tiny child in her arms though, the innocent face twisted up into an evil sneer, the soft white skin quivered and changed colours and textures till it had reached a deep and sickening purple colour that was warped with pits and warts. The baby's mewling cries turned to shrieks of terror and pain and the little demon attached to Irene's legs began to grin with a mouthful of pointed white fangs as it climbed her body. Irene screamed in horrour and batted at the creature to no avail. When it had reached her shoulder it sank poisoned teeth into the soft flesh of her throat drawing out her lifeblood and finally her voice. She felt her body falling even as her vision turned back to look upon herself. Just as she readied herself for the impact of the fall, Irene woke. Her breathing came in ragged breaths, sweat soaked through her tunic and leggings.

She lifted a hand to her throat and found no wounds, no oozing blood. As her body calmed, she became aware of her surroundings. The sun had sunk low on the horizon, casting its dieing glow upon the world. Frost had already begun to form on the ground, taunting the sun's death and stealing its warmth from the countryside. Irene rose slowly, working the cold from her joints as she reached into her pack for food. Her breath billowed around her as she pulled some cheese and bread from the sack and set it aside. She searched a little further in the bag for some feed. When she had found some, she rose to her feet and offered cupped hands to Gaia. The giant horse nickered and lipped the food out of Irene's delicate hands.

"I don't know where I would be without you." She whispered quietly. "We've been through so much together."

The horse nuzzled the young girl's cheek then walked off as if to say that there where more things to be done. Irene ate her meager meal and packed up her things. By the time the luggage had been strapped onto the saddle, the sun had set and twilight had long since passed. Irene pulled on her thick leather gloves, black mask, and hooded cloak and swung up onto the saddle. With a gentle nudge to her flanks Gaia trotted down to the main road and began again their long journey to the mountains.

As they traveled down the dark roads, Irene's thoughts drifted back to the time when she had first seen Gaia. A particularly stubborn mare and rowdy stallion had sired her almost seven years prior. As soon as the mare had dropped her foal, the skinny thing had been taken away from the foaling stalls and brought as a gift to Irene, set at her feet to do with as she saw fit. Of course Irene took pity on her and acted as a surrogate mother, sleeping in the same stall and feeding her for the first year as she grew. The wild nature of her mother and father was quieted in her to reveal a trust and loyalty that could not be bought or easily given. When the time came to for Irene to begin learning swordplay and horseback riding, Gaia was the one on whom she rode. Surprisingly, for her size, Gaia was the fastest horse in all the royal stables, and only Irene could mount her.

Beneath her, the horse snorted and pulled on the reigns. "All right girl," the princess smiled. "We'll run for a while."

Gaia tossed her massive head and leapt forward into a full gallop, with Irene clinging to her stark white mane and smiling wildly. Never before had either of them felt so free, the cold night winds running through their hair and singing passed their ears like the a song of independence. The road beneath them rolled by like waves the ocean, leading them towards their dreams with a wild abandon. The stars above them twinkled happily and lit the path towards their liberation as the moon guarded their steps. But not all that gazed upon them were of a benevolent nature. Following them at a distance, shadows matched their steps. Eyes of cold yellow and green glared angrily. They were not alone.

**xXx**

Their travels remained uneventful as the days drew by. As they drew further and further away from the royal city the villages grew farther between and woods that had only stretched a mile in distance slowly became larger and thicker. Beyond the forests, scraggily heath lands sprawled over acres of hills and mountainsides, the reaching, grabbing fingers of the heather stretching out to grab skin and clothe alike. It was in one of these vast areas that Irene and Gaia took rest on the dawn of the sixth day of their journey to mountains.

The patch of clear land that Irene had chosen was not far off the beaten path but well hidden from view by a hedge of dense heather boughs. On one side of the tiny clearing was a small shallow cave beneath the haggard roots of one ancient bush. In years passed a fox family had dug the hole out and lived until something had driven them out and now it served as a shelter from driving winds to any that dared stop in the treacherous wastes. Of course Princess Irene had no way of knowing these things, and thus found no reason not to start a small fire.

"Those clouds over yonder look menacing," She observed as she struck the flint and set some dry moss smoking. "Hopefully they will hold their burdens until we reach the mountains. I know plenty of places there where we can rest."

Gaia, who stood hands taller than the tallest shrubs, pawed at the earth and shot steaming breath into the air. Dawn had broken and the heath around them was awash in a sickly yellow light. Not a single hint of life or anything green could be seen stretching for miles, and yet there was a sense of malevolence that the draft horse could not shake. She nickered and shifted her weight nervously on the marshy ground.

"We're perfectly safe, Gaia," Irene assured her as she warmed her hands by the little campfire. "Nothing lives here that would attack us, and even if there were they would not attack by daylight. Just rest."

The princess' assurances did nothing to ease Gaia's unease, but she could do nothing. Trying her best to stay calm, she eased herself down to lay near the mouth of the little hole where she could soak in the warmth from the fire and within minutes sleep crept in took hold of both of them.

Irene woke hours later to the sound of Gaia's panicked whinnying. Throwing the last remnants of sleep off, Princess Irene leapt to her feet and grabbed Gaia's halter, forcing the horse's massive head down to look at her. "Gaia! What is wrong?" Irene asked as Gaia's large brown eyes rolled back and forth.

That did nothing to help calm the nervous beast. She only continued to whinny and dance around. When Irene turned her eyes from her trusted stead, she saw that the sun had begun to set already, leaving the heath in an eerie twilight, and she also saw the cause of the horse's panic. Off on her right, hidden deep within the windblown heather were several shadowy figures with golden eyes gleaming hungrily. As soon as she had spotted them, Irene rushed to pack up camp, throwing bedclothes and food into the small canvas bag and lifting Gaia's heavy black saddle to her back. She had mind enough to grab the tiny lamp she had brought and set it blazing to ward off the darkness that had ushered these foul beasts. Finally, as the last of the sun's rays disappeared beyond the ridge, she wrapped her face in the dark cloth and clasp the heavy cloak around her shoulders. Just when the sun's last rays disappeared, Irene had gotten Gaia into a full gallop and mounted in a warrior's mount.

Inky blackness surrounded them as they pounded down the road, a single guttering lamp casting no more than three feet of light on any side of them. Above the sound of hammering hooves Irene could only just make out the sound of hungry howling and soft footfalls. When she had finally worked up the courage to look behind them, the breath was stolen from the princess' slender throat when she saw their pursuers. Huge bipedal creatures with a lumbering gait and giant bodies were pressing in fast. Though she could only tell their outlines against the blackness, it was all she needed to get her moving. Suddenly, the sky was split in half by a great streak of lightening that touched down on some poor tree. _Boom!_ Thunder followed the lightening in quick succession nearly deafening the frightened pair.

"Hurry Gaia! If we can make the trees, we might stand a chance!" Irene urged her horse.

In truth, Gaia was running much faster than any horse had ever run, and had she been on kilometer slower, the beasts would beset them in a heartbeat. Irene marveled at the speed of these things that pursued them, their long, powerful legs pumping like iron and carrying them as if they were merely walking. She did not have time to marvel though, for just as the thick forests of the mountains came into view the sky let go of its heavy burdens in great torrents. The rain came down so hard that poor Irene could barely see ten feet in front of them.

"Just a little farther, girl! We're almost there!"

Behind them came a great long howl that seemed to drift off into the distance. Irene's pounding heart slowed a pace as she looked back through the pounding rain to see that the demons had fallen back quite a ways. Finally they were into the woods, drenched as they were, but hopefully out of the reach of their dark demons. Princess Irene took this chance to slow Gaia down and take a look around. Mountains climbed high on all sides of her, save for behind. Every inch of the land was thickly covered in pine, oak, and willow, which were all leaning heavily into the wind, providing no protection from the rain.

"We're finally here!" Irene exclaimed. "After a full seven days of travel, we're finally here! Now I just have to remember where the farmhouse was." She nudged Gaia into canter and headed on down the path to what looked like a valley.

Before they had gone a half a mile though, a dark figure stepped out of the woods and stood in the very centre of the road facing them. Irene pulled Gaia to a stop and quickly relit her lamp, which had been blown out in the heavy rain.

"Who's there?" She called out as she raised the lamp. The figure stepped forward a few metres. "Stop! Come no closer, I warn you!" Irene shouted, keeping her voice deep and intimidating.

That did nothing to stop him though and only when it had stepped into the circle of light shed by the lamp did it stop. Irene drew a deep gasp. Deep yellow eyes glared up at her from a face too hideous to be human, teeth too long and tusk-like to be a bear. Standing more than seven foot, the thing could easily look Irene in the eye and reach out to throttle her with the ease of snapping twigs. It swayed momentarily in the wet breeze then lunged. And the rain continued to pour.

**xXx**

"Curdie! Curdie, supper is ready!" Rose called up the stairs of their tiny cabin.

As she turned and began to dish a thick brown stew into respective bowls, heavy footsteps could be heard on the stairway, leaping, bounding down into the common room. Curdie, his wolf companion Cloud, and Sonya quickly washed their hands in a basin of cold water that stood next to the door and began to sit.

"Your father is still out in the barn," Rose said quietly, her unspoken agenda telling one of them to go and retrieve their father to supper.

Sonya burst up off her seat and shouted over her shoulder as she scuttled off to the barn, "I will get him!" The front door slammed shut behind her, making each of the three occupants wince at the loudness. Within a moment, the exuberant young girl had charged back into the room, her tall father in tow. When all had finally found their seats, prayers were said and spoons lifted happily to hungry lips, or tongues hungrily lapped up the stew as the case was for Cloud.

"That storm I told you about yesterday is on its way here, even as we speak," Peter informed the family. "If we've any luck at all, the rains will be light with little wind to drive it, but that does not seem to be the case."

As if to attest his words, one shutter caught the early evening wind and banged loudly against the side of the cottage, making each of them jump. The winds picked up shiftily, howling over the chimney and making the fire spin violently in the hearth, on the east side of the home a tall but slender oak rapped its long bony fingers against the window panes. Within a matter of ten minutes, fat drops of rain began to splatter against the glass and make shift journeys down to the windowsill. Curdie sighed heavily and looked across the table at his father.

"I only wish I could have shown you the trap we found Parsnip in yesterday," He said. "It was so curiously made, like nothing I've seen before."

Peter nodded his head sagely as he swallowed. "Might be a traveling trapper, just stopping through for a rest on his way to the capital. It has happened before."

"Yes, I know, but this one was different. There was a noose rigged up in the back to catch the creature's neck and strangle them when they struggled. It was lucky we even found Parsnip alive!" Curdie replied.

"Alright, that's enough of this conversation!" Rose butted in. Rising from her seat, she took each of their bowls and scraped the remnants into the pig slop bucket before dropping them into the dishwater.

Sonya took this cue to get up and help to gather the dishes and wash them. Peter and Curdie, having no part in the woman's house duties, vacated the tiny table and went instead to sit in chairs by the warm but sputtering fire. Cloud licked his chops contentedly and laid himself down by his master's side, gratefully resting his large head on Curdie's thigh. Thus they sat for several hours, the weather outside growing more and more vicious as the minutes passed. When the sun had been set for little more than an hour, Cloud's head perked up, his stiff grey ears turned towards the door. Curdie caught the quick motion and patted his canine's head softly.

"What's the matter, boy?" He asked.

The rest of the family turned from their jobs to see what was the matter, knowing that the wolf's hearing far exceeded their own. The wolf rose and padded softly to the door, where he stood and stared, head slightly cocked in curiosity, ears perked high to catch any sound made above the sound of the howling rain and driving rain. After a few moments had passed, Cloud began to whine softly and paw at the door. He looked back expectantly at Curdie and pawed a little more at the door.

"What is it you hear, Cloud?" Curdie asked again as he walked over to the door and squatted next to the dog's side.

"I don't want either of you going on in this mess," Curdie's said sternly. She picked up her mending and sat down in a chair by the fire and proceeded to darn some socks.

Cloud began to whine even more loudly, sometimes even letting out an uncharacteristic yip, and turning in circles as well as paw at the heavy oak door, begging to be let out. Curdie rose and looked over at his mother and father. The wolf continued to act strangely for several more minutes, unabated. The aging woman sighed and looked at Peter over her work.

"Offer him the ham bone and see if that will satiate his ill-ease." The man offered.

Curdie did as he was told and procured the said bone from a cupboard and waved it temptingly close to Cloud's sensitive nose. He stopped his whining and carrying on momentarily to sniff the juicy treat but then continued within taking any action to make the bone his own. Curdie looked up and shrugged.

"Oh, alright!" Rose gave in. "But make sure you bundle up! I won't have you waking up tomorrow morning with the sniffles." She warned.

Curdie smiled and snatched up a thick coat and then a heavy weatherproof cloak and hood. Seeing his master getting dressed made Cloud go into a tizzy of activity, following Curdie around and licking his hands when he could reach them. When a lamp had been lit and weapons situated, the two disappeared into the stormy night.

**xXx**

With Cloud racing ahead of him, Curdie held his cloak tightly around his throat and leaned into the driving wind and rain. Fat, cold rain drops smacked hard against his cheeks and exposed hands, mud sloshed thickly about his boots, making a wet sucking sound each time he lifted his feet to step. The wolf ahead of course bounded forward without effort, nose and ears leading the way to whatever had piqued his interests. Finally, Cloud stopped dead in his tracks, hunkered down, and pulled his lips back in a vicious snarl with his hackles raised high.

"What is it, Cloud? What do you hear?" Curdie queried, bending down with one hand on his dog's shoulder, the other extended with the lamp to shed some light.

As they stood for several minutes deciding what to do, a noise carried on the wind so loud that even Curdie could catch it. The frightened whinny of a horse and the howl of some unearthly creature mixed together like an eerie symphony, chilling the blood instantly. At that point Cloud sprang forward into the trees growling loudly; it was all Curdie could do to keep up with him. Low hanging branches snagged his cloak and slapped wet fingers against his face and chest making the going tough until he stumbled into a clearing and saw Cloud again standing at attention. His ears lay back against his skull with a growl rattling deep in his chest. Then Curdie looked up.

Before him stood a regal black draft horse with a stark white mane and tail. The moment he had been thrust out of the trees and lifted his lamp to see, the poor creature had taken a fright, rearing and whinnying wildly as it tried to get away from these new pursuers. But it was the rider that caught Curdie's attention and held it. Sitting high on the saddle, he was swathed from head to toe in a thick black cloak and hood with a portion tied around the lower part of his face. When the horse reared though he lost hold and fell with a sickening crack.

"Cloud! Get that horse back here! Hurry!" Curdie shouted as the giant draft horse took off into the woods. He knelt down next the limp body and felt for a pulse. "Weak, but there. Let's just hope your survive the fall." He murmured quietly. Just then Cloud returned herding the large animal back. Curdie lifted the rider into his arms, marveling at his thin frame, and set him into the saddle then mounted behind him taking the reins in his hands. Still on the ground, Cloud continued to raise his hackles and snarl off into the darkness.

"Come on boy, we have to get this man back to the cabin while he lives." Curdie said, and dug his heels into the horse's sides.

The horse pitched forward and ran with all haste in the opposite direction of the dangers it had just encountered. The rain continued its torrential downpour with howling winds threatening to rip her new rider's cloak right off his shoulders. Just behind her at her ankles, the large grey wolf kept pace easily but made no moves to snap at her vulnerable hocks. Finally, when she felt she could go no further, a small cabin came into view and before she knew it, the new master pulled her to a stop and leapt off. He took her rider into his arms and shouted through the rain to his wolf companion.

"Cloud, you stay here and make sure this horse stays here," He turned and walked down the path to the door. "I'll be back out in a moment to take her to the barn." Then he disappeared into the house.

When Rose heard her son enter, her heart was glad, her worries set to rest now that he was safely home. But then she caught sight of the limp form he held. Water poured off of the two of them, leaving puddles at their feet, as she stood and stared for a moment. Only a moment. Within seconds, she was barking orders to the whole family.

"Sonya, get me some fresh towels. Peter, pour that hot water into a basin and set it there on chair. Curdie, you lay the man on the table. What happened?"

"Cloud led me straight to him. Apparently, some big creature had spooked his mount and when I got close with the light, the poor thing reared and lost her rider." Curdie explained as he set down his charge. "When he fell, I heard something crack."

Rose nodded as she undid the brooch on his right shoulder and pulled the soiled cloak off. When she pulled her hand back from his head, it was red with blood. "Whoever he is, he didn't want people to see his face." She observed, searching for the tie to the black wrap around his head. Slowly and gently she unwrapped the material and when they had been completely removed, a collective gasp rose around the table, all four standing amazed.

Sonya was the first to speak. "It's not a 'he,' it's a _'she!'_"

**End of Chapter **

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**Thanks to Reviewers: lanna-missunshine: **Thanks for the complement! **Hazel Wish: **Thanks to you too for your complements, it sure helps writer's block to have someone that's rooting for you! **KAutumnLeavesH: **I'm glad you enjoyed it! I tried very hard to make him sound hot .! 

**Final Notes:** This took me waaaaaay longer to write than I had anticipated. Well, I guess this chapter's done now, so that's all that counts. Sorry it took so long for me to update. I been busy with college and all that dumb junk. Yay. Well, enough of my excuses… I hope you liked this last chapter. Please please please let me know what ya think, and continue reviewing! Mwah to all who reviewed on the last chapter, you're the bestest! Until next time!


	4. Who is she?

**There Comes a Time**

**Princess and the Goblin Sequel**

**Author's Notes: **Man, I have had no time to myself in the passed few months! And then you add homework and sickness and stupid boys to that and you got the perfect set of complications! Sheesh! I just think about my computer background that says "Guys suck anyway…" Well, moving on. I really have no idea what I'm gonna do for the fluff in the middle of the story… I have the end planned but who knows about the end. Oh well, I take it as it comes. I hope you guys who actually reviewed will continue to review. I hope you enjoy this next installment of TCAT!

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess and the Goblin nor do I own any of the affiliated characters, but I do own Sonya and Gaia. **

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**Last Chapter: **Irene and Gaia enjoy their first few days of freedom from the palace but are unaware that they are being followed by something sinister. On their final day of travel, the thing makes an appearance and the two flee for their lives. Meanwhile, Curdie and Cloud are both restless with the approaching storm and the thought of the mysterious trap they had found. Finally, the two have had enough and go hunting into the night. Cloud follows a strange scent and leads them to a rider in black. The rider falls from his horse and Curdie quickly takes them back to the cabin. Rose makes the discovery as she is attending to the rider's wounds that it is no he but rather a she.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Who Is She? **

**xXx**

The entire family stood in silent shock. On the table before them lay a young woman, her long hair soaked with her own deep red blood. Outside the world lit up briefly with a flash of lightening and in quick succession the deafening sound of thunder boomed overhead. The rain pelting the window doubled its attack. The woman's soft lips parted slightly, an almost nonexistent moan slipped passed the fleshly barrier and bounced about the room like a death note. When it finally ended, Rose burst back into action and continued to strip the girl of her soiled clothing.

"Curdie!" She shouted, her adrenaline pumping full force, "Curdie! Get out and put that horse in the stable before it gets sick!" She tossed the blood-soaked cloak onto the floor, away from the table, and began to work the tight belt that was cinched around the girl's waist. "Sonya, get some of my healing herbs from the cabinet above the wash basin. Hurry!"

Curdie heard it all but understood none of it. His eyes were fixed on the delicate figure that lay bleeding on the dinner table. Something about her struck him as vaguely familiar, but no matter how hard he tried he could not place it. Was it the seductive yet innocent curve of her lips? The graceful arch of her slender neck? He couldn't be sure.

"Curdie!" His father's voice rattled his head and snapped him back into the world of the living. "Get those animals into the barn!"

Without further hesitation, Curdie bounded towards the door and snatched the lantern off the hook before heading back out into the storm. Once his eyes had adjusted to the gloom of the outdoors, he saw Cloud and the large black horse standing right where he had left them ten minutes earlier. The giant draft horse had calmed considerably, perhaps to due to its proximity to humans. Cloud had taken advantage of the horse's bulk and sat under her chest, shielded partly from the rain. But upon seeing his master walking down the pathway, he rose up and barked happily in greeting. Overhead the thunder crashed loudly.

"Come on boy, let's get you two into the barn." Curdie said as he took a hold on the horse's halter and began to walk towards the tiny barn.

It took little time getting to the small enclosure, but opening the heavy door in thick mud proved harder than Curdie had first thought. Each time he strained at the door, pushing with all his might, his feet would sick into the mire and slip out from under him. More than once he found himself closely inspecting the quality of the mud after failing to push the door open. Finally, in exasperation, Curdie threw up his hands and slid down the door into the thick mud and propped his head on his hands. Cloud quickly came to his master's side and rested his grey head on Curdie's knee, longing to comfort the poor man. He sat there many minutes before something brushed lightly across his left ear. Curdie looked up to see the horse standing over him, her reigns dangling freely below her massive head.

"Of course!" Burst Curdie excitedly. Without any delay he looped the reigns through the handle on the door and tied them tightly. "Now, when I say pull, you pull as hard as you can." He admonished the black beast.

When he was certain that everything was in order, he came and stood next to the horse and shouted for her to pull. Immediately she dug her back hooves into the sloshy ground and strained against the leather straps. It feels like an eternity of pouring rain and thundering clouds had passed when finally the door cracked open. Curdie shouted encouragement to the beast and began to push the door as well. Within a matter of seconds, it was fully ajar and Curdie was unhitching his new best friend. Cloud took advantage of this free time to bound inside the warm barn and shake off his pelt. When his coat was as dry as it could get, he found a secluded corner and made himself a nest of soft hay and lay down to rest after his long night. Meanwhile Curdie led Midnight, as he had begun to call her, into the barn and began to remove each piece of gear off and dry it.

He had not gotten to look very closely at the stuff before now, so he took this opportunity to inspect each piece thoroughly. The saddle was made of the finest leather, with etchings all along it of wandering vines and flowering lilies. The saddlebags, which were packed to the brim, where supple and perfectly weatherproofed. But what caught his attention and held it was a finely tooled scabbard that hung on the left side of the saddle. Timidly he reached out his hand and brushed the supple leather with his fingertips. When no lightening struck him, his courage grew and his long digits wrapped around the long hilt. The sharp edges of the sword sang across the mouth of the sheath as he extracted the blade.

He marveled at the beauty of the weapon he now held in his hand, the long blade sparkled keenly as if newly whetted and polished. Running down the middle of the blade was the some ancient flowing script. The hilt was a marvel in itself; in the centre of the cross section a pair of snakes wove in and out with a bright cerulean gem lay safely in the nest created by their silver coils. The silver around them was polished so that it shone blindingly in the light, and the hilt's leather was worn smooth with time and use. From the end of the hilt to the tip of the blade, the sword measured at least a metre and a half, far longer than he would have thought a woman would be able to hold, let alone wield as a weapon. Yet it was perfectly balanced and sang sweetly as he cut up and down and back and forth with it. He sighed deeply thinking of the last time he had held such a sword, over ten years prior. His shoulders sagged visibly as he shoved the sword back into its sheath and hung it on a peg above Midnight's stall.

"Who is your mistress?" He asked absently, running his hands softly over the horse's muscled neck. She nickered quietly. "I guess we shall have to wait and see once she has fully healed," He sighed and picked up a currycomb. "We need to get you cleaned up."

Curdie methodically ran the comb over Midnight's entire body, brushing away the burrs and mud. Grabbing up a handful of stiff hay, he worked it carefully through her mane and tail. Cloud watched passively from his corner, observing his owner clean the giant horse and then treat it to a handful of rolled oats and a block of salt. After he had draped a thick blanket over her back, Curdie picked up the saddlebags and walked towards the barn door. Cloud immediately rose to follow, but Curdie turned and addressed him.

"No, Cloud," He said, "You stay out here for tonight. Guard Midnight." He smiled faintly and then turned again to leave.

Cloud plopped back down on his haunches and cocked his head to one side. This was new. Since he had been a tiny little pup, Curdie and Cloud had always slept in the same bed, shared the same blanket. No he was being demoted to the barn with Midnight, the chickens, and Flower, the old milk cow. He wasn't sure he liked this new twist in the hierarchy. But he went back to his nest of hay in the warmest corner of the barn and decided to do as he had been instructed resolutely and to the best of his abilities.

**xXx**

Curdie stepped back into the cabin with water streaming from his cloak like ribbons of blue satin. The moment his mother spotted him over her work, she frowned and shook her head. He smiled lopsidedly and shrugged. When he had shut the heavy door tightly, he turned to the task of getting all his wet garments off without spreading mud and water all over the floor.

When his boots and cloak had been set aside to drip dry, he took stock of the room and its goings-on, or lack thereof. His mother sat by the fire darning socks while his father whetted some hunting knives at the freshly cleaned table. But over in the corner closets to the fire, where his bed sat was what he had been so intrigued with. At the head of the bed Sonya sat with a clay bowl of cold water on her lap and next to her, laying fully stretched out on her back, was the mystery woman he had brought in from the cold rain. His little sister gently rubbed her forehead with a damp cloth, working away the fever that was now racing through her weak body. His mother noticed his attentions and smiled.

"She'll live," she sighed, "But I'm not too sure what that knock on the head will do to her. There was no break in the bone, but I can't be too sure what happened to her brain." Rose lowered her needles to her lap and looked over at her daughter. "We can only hope and pray now."

Curdie nodded his head absently as he walked over to where the woman lay. Now that her dark clothing had been switched for a stark white night shift and the blood had been cleaned from her face, she looked different, almost angelic. A noble brow, slender nose, high cheekbones, and flawless skin marked her apart from the average peasant girl. One did not need to see the items she had had on her person to know she was of noble birth. Even in her sleep, with her red-gold hair spilling around her shoulders like a waterfall and a white bandage encompassing her head, her very presence exuded nobility.

"Let your brother take care of her now, Sonya." Rose called from her seat by the fire. "It's late and you have work to do tomorrow in the gardens. Go get ready for bed."

"Yes, ma'am." Sonya sighed obediently and passed the bowl to her brother. She walked over to her mother and leaned in to kiss her cheek tenderly before bounding up the stairs to her loft.

Rose smiled at her retreating footsteps and then rose from her chair as well. Rolling up a ball of undyed wool, she dropped her work into a basket and stepped over to Curdie's bed. She stood next to him for a long moment watching the young woman on his bed breathe slowly in and out, her chest rising and falling rhythmatically. Gently, the aging woman put a hand on her son's strong shoulder and addressed him.

"You watch her for tonight. Tomorrow you can sleep, if you need to, and your sister and I will keep a watch on her."

He nodded silently then drew a deep breath and turned to look at his mother's warm face. "It feels like I know her. I can't tell why, it just does. She can't even tell me her name!" He sighed in exasperation.

"Give it time. She should wake at some point and then you can ask her anything you want." Rose reassured Curdie with a pat on the shoulder then kissed his cheek lovingly. "Good night."

Curdie mumbled a good night to her and watched as she was joined by his father in their short walk to the bedroom at the foot of the stairs. When the door had shut tightly, Curdie let out a breath he did not even know he had been holding and turned back to this girl that lay in his bed sound asleep. With a trembling hand, he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her ears were soft and thin, delicate as rose petals, but it was her hands that he longed to touch most. Her right arm lay above the thin coverlet with her palm resting comfortably on her stomach, well within his reach, so he stretched for it. For a second his hand hovered inches above her's, as if trying to decide whether or not it was a good idea to touch this delicate angel but quickly his curiosity won out. Her hands were thin and long, well suited for string and wind instruments, with neatly trimmed nails. Gently he turned her hand over so that her palm lay face-up and trailed a shaking finger across the smooth surface. While at first glance one might think this girl had not worked a day's hard labour in her life, a closer examination would show quite the opposite. Thick calluses on her palms and the tips of her fingers marked her as a sword fighter of many years. Here and there around her arms small raised scars gave testament to spars won and lost.

Something nagged at the back of Curdie's mind, bidding him to search further. Something about her was familiar, so familiar that her name hung on the tip of his tongue, playing with his teeth to make it out his lips. Visions of the past came to him, a young girl frolicking through flowered fields, her happy smiling face framed by white blond hair beaming up at his own. Who was she? Where had she come from? The girl in his dreams was not the same as the woman on his bed, and yet they were the same. It could not be his precious Irene. She had loved peace and calm, and her hair had been of golden sunshine, whereas this woman had hair of a reddish gold tint, almost akin to a golden dagger freshly extracted from a wound. Her arms too spoke that she loved to fight.

Before his thoughts could completely align, the woman groaned painfully in her sleep and shifted uncomfortably on her back. Curdie let go of her hand and dabbed lightly on her forehead with the wet clothe. She grimaced again and reached out her hand for someone, or something, Curdie could not be sure which. She groaned again, this time with more pain. Curdie laid the rag fully on her head and took hold of her reaching hand. Beneath their hoods, her eyes twittered back and forth feverishly, her mouth pulled into a tight frown or grimace of horrour.

"Please…" She whispered breathlessly.

Her voice sounded like a clear peeling bell, sweet and calming. But the fear that laced that sweet voice was almost haunting. There was something in her dream that should not belong and there was nothing Curdie could do but watch. What was it she saw?

"No!" She whimpered. She pulled her hand frantically from his grasp and shuffled on the bed, trying to evade her invisible attacker. "No, please! Leave me be!" Her voice was rising in desperation with each syllable.

Curdie had to keep her quiet and calm, if not for her sake then for the sake of those that still slept in the rooms nearby. Her whimpering would carry like the croaking of an annoying toad at midnight . By now she was pressed against the far wall, her face hidden in the coverlet so he reached across the bed and gently took hold of her shoulders. She immediately fought his touch, pulling and scratching to get away. Curdie bore it all and pulled her back, even partially into his arms to calm her down. Slowly, she began to calm in the warmth of his arms, his tight embrace giving comfort where nothing else could. In her world of dreams, she was not totally alone.

**xXx**

The next morning found Curdie fast asleep next to the bed, his head resting in the nest created by his arms there on the mattress. As the morning light crept across the floor to warm his cold feet, someone began to shuffle in the kitchen, clanging pots and pans noisily. Curdie straightened painfully and turned his eyes to the doorway of the kitchen to see what had so rudely awakened him. Rubbing sleep crusted eyelids with the back of his hand, Curdie began to see figures moving about in the kitchen, clanging pots and sloshing water around noisily.

"Good morning." Called a familiar sweet voice. Curdie groaned as he stretched his arms towards the ceiling, his joints popping loudly from lack of use. "The porridge will be ready in a few minutes. Best wash up before you sit down to eat."

Curdie nodded dumbly and rose to wash the sleep from his face and hands. The cold water sent a shock through his entire body, jolting him wide-awake and sending goose flesh rising on his neck. He heard his father's heavy footsteps behind him as he straightened with the towel over his face and addressed him.

"Good morning, father."

"Good morning," he replied, his deep voice rattling with sleep, "I see the girl hasn't awakened from her sleep yet." Peter observed as he dipped his hands into the washbasin.

"I doubt the girl will wake for a few days yet." Rose told the two as she set a large bowl of porridge on the table and wiped her hands. "She took a hard hit on her head, so I can only imagine what she'll think when she wakes up again."

The three stood for a moment gazing at the woman lying on Curdie's bed, each lost in their own thoughts about her or about the events that surrounded her arrival. It was only when Sonya began to clamber down the stairs that they woke from their trance and sat down to break their fast **(IB: If you think about it, that is what breakfast means. You haven't eaten for say… eight hours, therefore you ARE breaking a fast! Don't you just love etymology?)**. With hands folded in supplication, they bowed their heads and Peter offered up the day and the mysterious woman to God in prayer. When he had finished a chorus of "amen" sounded and the porridge was passed from place to place along with a jar of honey and a pitcher of fresh cream. Friendly chatter was abandoned in the favour of filling empty bellies.

When each one had eaten their fill, the table was cleared and Sonya was given the task of cleaning the pots and bowls while Peter began to ready himself for work in the mines. Curdie began to pull on his heavy work boots and cloak before his father waved him aside and demanded he stay behind to help his mother and sister with this new task of taking care of the enigmatic girl.

"There are weeds to be pulled in the garden and I believe the stalls in the barn need to be cleaned out as well with fresh hay for the cow and our guest's horse. See to it that that these things are done by the time I return tonight." Peter admonished his son with a heavy, large hand on his lean shoulder.

Curdie stood silently for a moment then sighed loudly and answered, "Yes, father."

Peter smiled broadly and patted his son's strong shoulder, then turned to leave for the mineshafts far up the side of the mountains. Rose watched him go through the glass window. When he had disappeared into the thick woods that surrounded their tiny haven of peace, she turned to Curdie and handed him a woven basket. With a small smile she pointed to the door and put one calloused hand on her hip. Curdie chuckled lightly as he took the basket and heaved open the heavy oak door.

For a full week, day in and day out, things remained this way. The woman barely stirred from her bed, let alone wake from her sleep. Watchful eyes were always on her, whether morning, noon, or night. Chores were divided evenly between each of them; making sure that at any given time she was being cared for with undivided attention.

**xXx**

The change in her catatonic state came on the early morning of the seventh day. Curdie sat at her bedside, his head resting comfortably in the cradle of his arms on her mattress. Rose had busied herself in the kitchen preparing the morning meal while Peter sat at his seat at the head of the table with his nose buried in an aged copy of their family Bible. A soft moan brought all their heads up in a flash, all directed at the young woman on Curdie's bed.

Curdie raised his head slowly and straightened as he watched her face begin to animate itself. Gently she rolled her head to the side and allowed her eyes to ease open. Beautiful blue eyes met Curdie's as he gazed down at her. When she saw him gazing back at her, confusion flooded into her face. Without taking her frightened gaze from his face, the young woman eased herself into a sitting position.

"Where…" She began quietly, "where am I?"

"You're deep in the mountains of King Lenoth's kingdom." Curdie replied. At her confused expression, he continued, "Do you not remember how you got here? What happened when you reached the woods?"

She stammered for a few seconds then pulled deep into herself, thinking, searching for the answers to his simple questions. Her gentle features slowly grew worried and scared when she could not remember. She looked back up into his eyes and shook her head, the expression on her face pulling at Curdie's heartstrings.

"Do you remember anything? Your name?" He asked gently.

"My…my name…" She looked down at her hands and frowned. A moment of complete silence elapsed before she began to speak again. "My name is…"

It was right there on the tip of her tongue. Fractured pieces of something like a memory flittered about inside her head, but for some reason she could put no connection between those images and her throat. Faces of men, worn old women, tall stately soldiers, even the warm loving face of an aging man came quickly to her mind. Even with these memories came emotions of love and happiness, but nowhere could she find the names of these people or their relation to her, not even the names of any place that she saw could she recall. She felt anger wash over her, frustration at not being able to name these friends or family. Then as quickly as that anger came, fear washed it away, leaving her cold with panic.

"I… I…" Tears spilled over her eyes and down her cheeks, splattering on the front of the simple white shift she wore. "I can't even remember my name…"

* * *

**Thanks to the Reviewers: lannamisssunshine: **Haha, if I can help it, he won't find out who she is for a while! But thanks a lot for reviewing! Please keep it up! **KAutumnLeavesH: **I always include those faith reviewers in my next chapters! So you keep reviewing and I'll keep ya on smiles. Hope you liked the chapter! **KatAngel711: **Yeah, I had hoped it would turn out looking like a sequel! **the doctor's next dance: **Hope this was soon enough for you! Thank you! **trinityelisabethholly: **It was always a tradition for me and my best friend to watch it when I stayed over at her house. I hope this fulfills any wishes you had as a little girl! **Sapphireshell91: **Thank you so much! I try very hard to make everything realistic (to a degree) and follow some line, so I'm glad it's paying off! Please continue to review! **iNuQTpIe: **You are most welcome! Hope you enjoy it! **obsesessed365: **There you have it! Some more to read!! Enjoy!! **mojo: **Thanks! Please review again! **Haydenlover19:** Updated! smiles **longislandgirl88: **Thank you! Glad you like it! **Hazel Wish: **There you have it! They don't recognize her! Or at least they don't right now... devious smile. **Kitty243: **Thanks, hope you enjoyed it! **Maiden Jo: **Sorry about that! Yeah, I have every intention of continuing this when I get time to write. **JoshK1o25: **I hope I live up to the great books (I loved them too!!). Please continue to review! **  
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**Final Notes: **Yeah, so please forgive my tardiness in updates. I have to thank those of you who have kept up with me and even took a look at this chapter. I'll give the excuse that college has been a real bear with lots of papers and my computer died and I was left with a fried power cord, but I know ya'll won't believe that. Oh well. I got the next chappie up. But please don't let my tardiness take away from you guy reviewing! I really appreciate those of you who did review! Those who didn't, shame on you. Anyway, I've said enough now. Next chappie will be up when I can get around to it.


	5. More Mystery

**There Comes a Time**

**Princess and the Goblin Sequel**

**Author's Notes:** Aish… who knew it would take me over a year to write another chapter? Well, part of that isn't my fault. I had this whole thing completely done and ready to upload but somehow my dad deleted it off his Mac, and the only copy I had was only a partial. Bah, humbug. I kinda lost interest in it after that since I couldn't remember everything I'd written down. But over the past year I've written a little bit at a time and now the next chapter is up and ready for review. Sorry for the delayed absence. But I will warn you that it could take a while for this story to be resolved, as I am heading into the final years of my English major and I have papers out the wazoo to write. Anywho, read on, and REVIEW!!!

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess and the Goblin nor do I own any of the affiliated characters, but I do own Sonya and Gaia. **

**xXx**

**Last Chapter: **Curdie and his family spend a tense week watching over their injured and unconscious guest. All the while they wonder who she is and where she is from. Something about her seems vaguely familiar to Curdie, but he can't place it. On the seventh morning, the young girl wakes up. When Curdie asks her what happened and where she is from she can come up with no reply. Even when asked her name, the girl cannot remember.

**xXx**

**Chapter 5: More Mystery**

**xXx**

Gentle sunshine filtered through swirling dust mites, casting a soothing light throughout the small cabin and warming each of the five occupants. Rose and her husband sat at the kitchen table, quietly discussing something over their steaming tea and porridge. Sonya, having already finished her breakfast, sat by the fireplace sewing scraps of cloth into dresses and tiny dolls. Curdie had pulled a chair over to his bed, on which their mysterious guest now lay, and watched her as she slowly ate a bowl of porridge.

Her long red-gold hair was swept back away from her face in a loose plait, leaving her expressions easily to be seen. Her delicate eyebrows pulled together above filmy cerulean eyes, the corners of her mouth drooped down into a sad scowl between bites of the thick pasty meal. She had refused to look anyone in the face shortly after she had woken the morning before, too embarrassed that she could not even remember her own name, let alone how she had wound up in their home.

"It will come back to you in time," Curdie assured her, his hand drifting towards hers. "These things aren't usually permanent."

She pulled her hand back away from him absently and turned her face to the wall. "How can you be so sure? I can't remember anything!" She whispered despairingly, one tiny crystal tear spilling over her porcelain cheek.

"You said that you could feel something though," Rose said from across the room. "That you could see faces in your mind. Vivid pictures of the past perhaps?"

The young woman closed her eyes and bowed her head, willing those images to return to her. A wizened old woman with a wimple, dozens of soldiers dressed in shining armour, flighty women bedecked with jewels and draped in silks, the clearest face of an aging man with a warm and comforting smile, grey hair framing his strong features. Even the face of a majestic woman with long flowing silver hair and a face that spoke of centuries seen but not lived floated dimly passed her closed lids, but in none of it could she find a name, or even a sound that jogged her memories. The very last image that she saw though was by far the clearest of them all, and the most frightening.

Almost as though it were a dream, she sat high above the muddied road, trees thick on either side with rain pelting down on their glossy leaves. Her single lantern held aloft could only illuminate a small circle around her, leaving the rest of the world in absolute darkness. The feeling of sheer terrour gripped her heart like a vice. Aside from the sounds of the storm raging above her, there was no sounds of the forest, no foxes calling, no creatures shuffled through the wet mulch seeking shelter. It was too quiet. Ahead of her, out of the forest, something moved. Just beyond the safe circle of her lantern's golden glow, something or someone stalked out of the trees and stood in the middle of her way. Her fear doubled as it sauntered towards her, each step bringing it a bit closer to her safe circle. Just before she could make out the features in her light though, the vision disappeared, leaving her gasping for breath.

As her eyes flew open, she became aware of four, now five sets of eyes locked on her reaction. Curdie sat on his chair by the bed, leaning in with worry plastered all over his handsome face. Rose and her husband stood by the door frozen in the midst of their goodbyes. Sonya cradled her fat cat in her skinny arms and stared in wide-eyed curiosity at the woman. Finally, sitting at Curdie's thigh was the largest wolf she had ever seen, his beautiful eyes staring at her calmly. Something about him triggered a few more scattered images before finally her mind went blank and her sight failed her.

**xXx**

"Leave her be, Curdie." Rose said quietly as she readjusted the woman to a laying position on the bed. "She's been through a lot these past few days, and whatever it was that led her here, it can't be pleasant to recall."

Curdie sighed in exasperation and ran his hands through his unruly brown hair. Leaning forward he rested his elbows on his knees and bent his head. Cloud bumped his cold nose against Curdie's thigh and whined. Rose smiled sadly and placed a calloused hand on her son's head.

"Give her time, dear. There is no telling how much time it will take for her memories to come back to her. Have patience. I'm sure God has a reason for this. We have only to wait and see what He is planning."

The only acknowledgment to her words that Curdie gave was to simply nod his shaggy head. His mother smiled again and then turned to go back to her work of cleaning up the morning meal. Sonya stood staring for a few moments more before her mother called her to begin her work in the gardens, pulling out the weeds and picking the early fall fruits. At his knee, Cloud whined a little louder and pressed his cold nose once again to Curdie's leg, hoping to shock him out of his stupour. Slowly, the man reacted and laid a heavy hand on his companion's furry head. Raising his head, he turned his chocolate eyes back to the young woman lying peacefully unaware on his bed. Her hair spilled out around her pillow like rivers of molten gold, her cheeks were slightly flushed from the warmth of the room. Curdie tousled Cloud's grey and white ears and stood to his feet.

"Come on boy, I need to get out of this place." With that, Curdie sprang from his chair and leapt towards the door, reaching for his bow as he did. "I'm going to hunt for a while." He called out to his mother as he fled through the door, Cloud nipping at his heels.

The tall, young man sped through the forest trails, miles upon miles burned under his softly padding feet before he finally came to rest on a tiny knoll in the middle of the dense wood. Warm sunlight filtered through the trees, casting the whole area in a calming green hue. Somewhere deep within the copse that surrounded the hill a bird cried out cheerfully and was answered by its mate shortly afterward. It was here that Curdie threw down his bow and quiver and lay down in the thick, spongy grass on the hill's crown. Cloud loped around the base, diving in and out of the thick brush in search of small rodents on which he could pray. With a great sigh, Curdie placed his hands behind his head and stared up at the morning sky.

The images of what the young woman had portrayed from her visions came flooding into his mind. From what she had conveyed to them, she had at one time lived among royalty, or at least a semblance of it. No women in a village or parish would ever step foot outside their doorways to work in the rich silken colours she had described. And yet she had thick calluses on her palms from manual labour of some kind. And the soldiers! Only one city that Curdie could think of would house so great a force as the one she had seen, and with the regalia they had worn. With the king's army being as small and feeble as it was, he could not justify spreading them across the land, and so their forces centred around the capital city, where the stronghold of the king was located. Deep in his gut, he felt the pangs of his past love beginning to swell again.

"Where are you, Irene?" He asked the sky. "Why haven't you returned to me as you promised you would?"

Her innocent face filled his vision: cherubic features framed in hair so golden it could have been tangible strands of the sun itself, pink lips parted slightly in a sweet smile to reveal rows of perfect white teeth, and deep blue eyes that pierced so deep they seemed to touch the very core of one's being. Her carefree laughter drifted lightly through the hollow, making him rise half-expecting to see her dancing at his feet. All he saw though was Cloud lying there licking his jowls free of his last meal. Leaning forward, Curdie ruffled the wolf's head fur fondly and smiled down at his only companion. It was only then that he realized how dead silent the forest had fallen.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled with fear as he turned his head this way and that searching for the source of his discomfort. All that met his eyes was the darkness of the trees around him. The hunter in him raged against the unnatural silence; even Cloud's ears pricked up and twittered atop his bushy grey head in search of some sort of noise to fill the void.

Somewhere deep within the green shadows, a twig snapped and birds rushed from their hiding places with speed that could have rivaled even the fastest lightening. Between the dark tree trunks, Curdie was sure he saw some bulking figure shifting slowly. To his left Cloud let a growl rumble deep within his broad chest. Reaching for his bow, Curdie got up into a hunter's crouch and notched an arrow, taking aim for what he assumed was the reason for the sudden silence.

"Who goes there," He challenged the shadows. "Friend or foe?"

He wasn't sure, but in the back of his mind he was sure that he had heard a deep and derisive chuckle in reply. Cloud's growl turned rapidly into a menacing snarl, his lips pulled back to reveal rows of sharp white teeth. The fur on the nape of his neck stood rigid, his ears laid back in agitation. Curdie frowned deeply and squinted to see a little better. He called another challenge.

"Show yourself or get an arrow in the gut!"

The shadow shifted deeper back into the darkness the trees lent it. Several twigs snapped around its feet as it retreated into the safety of its forest home. Without any more warning, Curdie let his arrow fly, sending it spinning towards the figure. Just as he leaped up to follow it he heard the disappointing _thump_ as the arrow imbedded itself it a tree trunk. He slowed his pace as he reached the edge of the forest; his feet were cautious as he took one tentative step into the all-encompassing darkness of the woodland. The shadowy figure that had been haunting them had disappeared, melting into the shadows as though it had been made of them. With another arrow notched at the ready, Curdie made his heading toward the area where he guessed the being had stood. _An apparition._ He thought when he located his lost arrow. It was buried several inches into an old rowan tree, completely devoid of any signs of having gone through a living being.

Taking a quick glance around him, Curdie slung his bow behind him and wrapped one hand around the shaft of his arrow. With one great yank, he pulled the shaft from the trunk of the tree and studied the body carefully. The fletching was gone. He narrowed his eyes and dropped down to his feet, searching for the three feathers that were missing. Instead he found two very deep, very large prints right at the base of the same tree he had struck. Cloud, sensing his companion's interest, snuffled around the prints and began to follow what he believed was the trail. With a loud yip and a bounding leap, he headed off after his quarry.

Curdie watched him go, but stayed behind and gazed up at the unusually tall rowan. From what he knew of plant-life, he knew that the fact that his arrow had imbedded itself in the rowan was no mere chance hit. He had often heard that rowan saplings were planted on graves to keep the deceased from haunting the living. Cutting a thin switch from a low-hanging branch, Curdie promised himself to return in time to flesh out his stalking ghost. He put his index finger and thumb just passed his lips and let out a shrill whistle, effectively calling the grey wolf to his side.

"Well, I'd say that our hunting trip is done now, boy. There's something out there but I'm not ready to confront it yet." Curdie sighed and turned his eyes back to the high limbs of the rowan tree. "Come on Cloud, let's go home and see how our patient is doing."

**xXx**

"I was wondering when you would choose to return again," Curdie's mother stood in the doorway of their home, wiping her hands on her apron. "The girl's been awake for a few hours now."

Curdie stopped in the middle of the walkway and looked at his mother intently. "Has she said anything? Does she remember anything that happened?"

"Now Curdie, you know very well it's not all going to come back in one day! The poor girl's had a very serious bump on the head; it's a wonder she even woke up at all! It wouldn't surprise me if she never remembers anything from her past life. Her muscles will remember old tasks, writing, dancing, or sewing perhaps, but she won't be able to tell you why she remembers them, or even how she learned them. We can only thank the Lord that she can actually think and move, for the most part, for herself." Rose gazed sadly at her son.

She knew that something about the whole incident weighed heavily on Curdie's mind. Over the years since his childhood companion had left him, all his attentions had shifted to being alone and quiet. But now that this young girl had dropped into their lives, he seemed to look at her with an inner fire. There were always wheels turning in his mind when he looked at her, Rose could see that whenever she looked into his chocolate brown eyes. Even now, as she stood gazing at the young man, his stance was tense, his gaze unwavering and intense.

A thud from inside the cabin made Rose turn quickly in the doorway, startling her out of her reverie. Curdie heard it too and leaped through the door before Rose could react. When she realized what had happened, she rushed into their home towards the source of the thud. Her eyes were just beginning to adjust to the dimmed light when she found out what had happened. Curdie knelt a few feet away from his bed trying to help their injured guest off the floor. Cloud stood at her head whining sadly and occasionally licking her cheek in an effort to console her. The girl had apparently tired to walk when her legs gave out on her and she collapsed on the floor in the heap that Curdie was now trying to put back together.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Curdie slipped his arm around the young woman's waist and hoisted her to her feet carefully. "I don't know what happened…" Her voice trailed off quietly.

"You don't know how you ended up on the floor?" Rose asked skeptically.

The girl stared at her dumbly and shook her red-gold hair. There was a frightened look in her eyes, like a cornered doe, her bright blue eyes rimmed with a salty gleam that threatened to spill over at any minute. Cloud seemed to sense her distress and gently licked the back of her hand. Rose walked across the little cabin to her water basin and wrung out a clean rag to lie on the girl's forehead.

"Just lay back down. Rest a bit." Curdie eased her back onto the pillow and took the rag from his mother to place on the girl's warm forehead. Her skin burned hotly at his touch, sending an old sensation shivering through his bones like wildfire. He did his best to hide his reaction. Trying to cover over his own blunder, he quickly changed the subject. "Have you remembered your name yet? We can't keep calling you 'girl' like we have been."

"No," she sighed sadly. "Nothing has come to me but what I've already told you about. I'm beginning to think I'll never remember anything ever again."

"Well, then we shall make a new name for you!" Rose smiled warmly and handed the girl a bowl of thick stew. "You can start over here with us, if that's what you would want…" She queried.

"I would like that very much." The weak smile that spread across her thin lips seemed to have lost a trace of the sadness that had made its home on the young woman's delicate features.

**xXx**

**Thanks to the Reviewers: SapphireShell91: **Thanks for reviewing! Sorry that I didn't update this chapter as soon as I should have. Hope you liked it though. Please let me know what ya think! **JovialShogun: **I take that as a compliment to be put on the same shelf as MacDonald! Thank you! You'll just have to keep reading to find out about goblins! **Obsessed365:** Hahaha, well, I did update, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much. **Gracie Shinn:** Sorry for the long wait… Hope you like it. **Kitty243:** There you have it! **Carnelianviu: **Thanks for the compliments. I hope I don't disappoint. **LivBarnes: **Hope you like it.** iNuQTpIe:** Believe me, I totally understand. I just hope you can forgive me for my absence. **daughterofthelegend93:** I know! I loved the movie and I always wanted to make my own version!** New Heart:** Hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for reviewing. **Unopeneddoors:** Hope you enjoy it, and please review again! **Savior-Elemental: **Hope this is soon enough for you. **Shizuku Tsukishima749: **I hope you enjoyed this chapter… **Deyinel:** The way ya'll butter me up with compliments, I just hope I don't disappoint everyone!

**Final Notes: **Well… there you have it. The next installment of the Curdie and mystery girl drama. I have to say that I'm not really big on this chapter. SO far, of all the chapters, I feel this one is the weakest mainly because I took so long to finish it out. I really do apologize for the long wait, and I understand if I lose a bunch of reviews, but hey, ya do what ya can, right? All that aside, I hope my faithful few will continue to read and review, you're the only ones that keep me writing!! MWAH! Bye!!


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